Promises Promises

High school senior Tana Holloway feels comfortable with technology.
As a member of the computer-magnet program at Denver's George
Washington High School, she has learned word processing, programming,
computer-aided design, and computer graphics.

But Tana is not satisfied.

Even though she's in a model technology program, computers are
nowhere in sight on a typical day in five out of six of her
classes.

Take her two-period Advanced Placement chemistry class, for example.
It's Monday morning and the students are tracing the footsteps of Niels
Bohr as they measure the wavelength of light emitted from hydrogen
molecules and make scientific calculations. The setting for the
experiment is also reminiscent of Bohr's time; the equipment in the
classroom has more in common with labs of the 1920s than a modern
research environment. Black-top lab tables surround school desks that
face forward. The most prominent tools are textbooks, pen and paper,
chalk and blackboard. There are no computers in the classroom.

This should come as no surprise. According to a 1988 survey of 3rd,
7th, and 11th grade students by the National Assessment of Educational
Progress, computers in schools are seldom used in regular subject
areas; they're largely confined to computing classes. Fewer than 15
percent of students surveyed, for example, said they used computers in
science.

Tana's AP chemistry classroom is not entirely devoid of technology.
As teacher Andrew Kramer stands at the board writing scientific
equations, two students argue over the calculations. "Get a new
calculator, man!'' admonishes one. Tana, who wants to study medicine in
college, says she couldn't get by in the class without a calculator.
Luckily, she had the money to buy one because the school doesn't
provide calculators. The Denver public school system, like many others,
is feeling the crunch of hard times.

The chemistry class will go to a computer lab once this year, Kramer
says, to study a database on the periodic table of elements. The
computer program graphs relationships between the elements, showing
students the trends underlying the organization of the table. In the
past, the students drew similar graphs by hand. But the task was
tedious, making it difficult for them to focus on the graphs' meaning.
The software program is the kind of powerful teaching tool that Kramer
would like to use more often, but it's difficult to get access to the
computer labs--and the school doesn't have appropriate software.

If Kramer had his way, each student in his classroom would have a
computer. But he is not sanguine. "Unless there is some federal
funding,'' he says, "it's not going to happen.'' In the mid1980s,
George Washington High got federal grants totaling more than $2 million
to beef up its computer program. But, Kramer says, this kind of support
should be ongoing. "After a grand infusion of money, a school can coast
for three to five years,'' he notes. "Then, the equipment needs to be
updated, and repair costs soar.''

After chemistry, Tana crosses into the domain that gives her school
its "computer magnet'' label. Entering the lab for her Computer-Aided
Design, or CAD, class is like stepping into another world. Students in
front of sophisticated color monitors manipulate keyboard and mouse,
drawing, erasing, and flipping lines so quickly that it looks like
animation. But their work is far from child's play; engineers in more
than 4,000 workplaces worldwide use the same equipment.

The majority of George Washington's 225 IBM or IBM-compatible
computers are relegated to nine computer labs. The students enrolled in
the computer-magnet program--about a fifth of the school's total
population--must take at least one of 30 computer courses offered each
semester. Other students can sign up for courses as they wish. But even
the labs are not exempt from the district's tight budget. Every
semester, Tana and other students taking a computer course must pay a
$15 fee to cover the costs of disks and repairs.

As Tana demonstrates two ways to create a curve on the CAD screen,
she explains how her computer classes differ from the others: After a
brief introduction to computer functions, students learn by doing. In
this class, for example, the students progress through various workbook
tasks, such as drawing parts of a telescope or robot, at their own
pace. The teacher roams the room, coaching and troubleshooting. "I
haven't heard one person complain about this kind of class,'' Tana
says. "Some students go far, and we all learn the basics.''

Without a doubt, Tana's working knowledge of technology is unusual
among high school students. She has learned word processing, is
familiar with several computer languages, and knows how to use a
spreadsheet to keep a budget. In her favorite class, Business
Computers, she even learned to design a brochure and newspaper ad,
using a software program called DrawPerfect. "I'm not very good at
drawing, but I'm a perfectionist,'' she says. "The computer lets me do
something well that I wouldn't be able to do normally.''

In Tana's mind, familiarity with technology is a necessity, not a
frill. "In order to be considered educated today,'' she insists, "you
have to know computers.'' If that's the case, many public school
students are woefully unprepared. Less than half of the students
surveyed for the NAEP study knew that a computer program tells the
computer what to do. Although most 11th graders had some knowledge of
word processing, few had a good comprehension of graphing functions or
databases. Computer illiteracy is worse in the lower grades; a third of
the 7th graders surveyed did not even know what a cursor does.

Before heading off to her drama class, Tana stops by her locker.
"Drama has nothing to do with computers,'' she shouts over the din in
the hallway.

But she has to eat her words. The day's assignment is to sketch a
set design for the play The Elephant Man. Tana immediately recognizes
that she could create a precise blueprint for the set on the CAD
equipment--if there were computers in the classroom or available in a
lab. One reason the drama students don't have access to the appropriate
equipment is that the teacher, Nancy Priest, doesn't know how to do
computer-aided design and doesn't have time to learn during the school
year. But realizing the potential for clean, exact sketches, Priest
allows students to do the work in the CAD lab during their free time.
And she encourages students who are familiar with graphics software to
use it to make banners, programs, and flyers for the school plays.

Tana's Spanish teacher is the only "academic'' teacher who regularly
uses computers. Every other Monday, Sue Lashinsky leads the Spanish
class from her traditional classroom to a computer lab, hands the
students disks, tells them what to type on the keyboard, and has them
work independently on review programs.

While waiting for the Spanish program to boot up, Tana recounts how
computers have been employed in her other academic subjects: They were
never used in social studies and economics; her physics class once used
a flight simulator; and her biology and math teachers occasionally used
a computer to show graphs. "In most classes, we weren't allowed to use
computers,'' Tana explains, "because teachers think they do the work
for you.''

Once Tana gets the program going, a paragraph about subjunctive and
imperative moods flashes on the screen; she reads it and then answers
questions. Although Tana likes doing just about anything on computer,
she says the Spanish software has some flaws. "The computer gives you
the answer,'' she says, a little disgusted. "In a program we used
before, you had to think.''

None of the computer screens display attractive graphics. Lashinsky
says she prefers software that takes a straightforward, academic
approach. "I'm not a game person,'' the teacher explains, "so I think
using computers for games is a waste of time.'' But the teacher is
impressed at the way computers hold the kids' attention, even through
the repetitious tasks necessary to learn a language. The students are
quiet in the lab, obviously engrossed in their work.

Tana spends the last period of the day at a desk, reading a chapter
in an English textbook and answering questions on a worksheet. A third
of the class is off at the library, working on research papers. Most
likely, their searches will center on the card catalog. The school is
hooked up electronically to a statewide network of public and
university libraries, but the librarian doesn't know how to use the
network.

Elizabeth Feldman, Tana's English teacher, wishes her classroom was
equipped with word processors; she thinks they would give students who
have trouble writing expressively a big boost. Tana believes that they
would help the average students, as well. "I think better when I get on
a computer,'' she says. "Both hands are working, and my fingers can
almost keep up with my brain.''

Tana, like the vast majority of students in the NAEP survey, enjoys
working with computers and wishes she could use them more often. She's
grateful that she has had the opportunity to become computer literate,
but she's disappointed that so few of her academic courses take
advantage of computer technology.

"It's easier for me to study on the computer,'' Tana says. "When I'm
watching TV and a show on medicine comes on, I'm glued. I understand
things better when they are on a screen.''

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